Harrison Birtwistle is now 65. For the occasion, the BBC dedicated a Composer
Portrait evening to his music. The first work was
Melencolia I (1976) for solo clarinet, additional solo harp
and orchestra. The piece starts coming from nowhere out of silence with the
kind of tone that clarinets can produce so wonderfully. Melencolia I is
truly lyrical music, with long spun melodic lines above a well balanced,
almost reserved orchestra with mysterious sounds. Richard Hodges
produced wonderful pianissimo tones, but lacked fullness and expression
in the fortes. Melancolia I - as I understand it - is about
the contrast between the individual and a group, a mass, a society... but
Hodges didn't communicate the expressive individuality of his part as he
should have done, tending rather to hide behind his rather formal and polished
technique.

Harrison's Clocks(1997-8) for solo piano is a
large five-part structure. Stylistically the work is maximalist music with
repetitive minimalist elements. Here one could clearly perceive Birtwistle's
obsession with complex overlapping cyclical processes. Some of the cycles
are so large, with long pauses in between, that they can hardly be heard
as cycles, just like in real life. Occasionally I could even hear jazzy Ragtime
elements. The accomplished pianist Nicolas Hodges brought both the
mechanical elements and the lyrical lines of this remarkable piece alive.
Each of the five sections begins with a signal-like descending line of notes
ending on a deep, noisy chord. The repetition of this gesture at intervals
throughout the piece seemed a bit silly, especially if one contrasts that
with Birtwistle's statement, that he doesn't care, how a piece starts. You
might as well use the same single note.

Panic (1995) for alto saxophone, drum kit and string orchestra
caused some stir on the final night of the Proms 1995. The title already
promises something spectacular, a bit like New Labour. But I wasn't convinced.
The saxophone in an orchestral environment, even without strings, is always
problematic. Due to its rich harmonics the sound of the saxophone ovelaps
with a lot of orchestral instruments, with the result that I often couldn't
hear John Harle, who unquestionably is an excellent player. Also the
drum kit at the front of the stage, together with the saxophone and the players
moving around, suggested the hippness of mixed media to increase the street
cred. Maybe Birtwistle composed Panic with a twinkle in the eye, but
it doesn't really work.

In contrast the large orchestral work Earth Dances(1985-6)
is a huge achievement. Compare that with Messiaen's tasteless, vulgar
Turangalila symphony. Layers of complex textures - Birtwistle calls
them strata - move against each other, like tectonic plates, creating friction
and releasing vast energies. The work is very varied, with mechanical, repetitive
elements, long drawn, almost static melodic gestures and percussive noise.
Sometimes the different cycles all come together at their wildest moments,
which creates an overwhelming density. The BBC Symphony Orchestra under the
suave guidance of Jac van Steen gave a wonderful performance of this
complex and powerful music. It might have sounded even better in a different
hall, like the Tonhalle in Zurich, or the Philharmonie in Berlin.